The Strike in the Alley
by grc73
Summary: Just a hint of a spoiler to the season six finale but the rest is all me. Booth and Brennan go undercover, all been done before but my take on it. Mentions of earlier seasons in passing. B&B all the way. *Now updated after a long (and accidental) hiatus!*
1. Chapter 1

**_Hello! I'm back after a loooong hiatus. Real Life is a pain, takes up so much time... ;)_**

**_So once again I've been inspired by (a) an upcoming episode (Finale anyone?) and (b) having just had a holiday._**

**_No major spoilers, just my take on what I'd like to see happen. Unlikely but you never know.  
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><p>Dr. Lance Sweets stared at his favourite patients with a hint of concern. Usually they approached their undercover assignments with gusto, but this time there was tangible trepidation on both their faces. They glanced at each other, then looked away quickly as each caught the other's eyes, both a little surprised at the mutual reaction.<p>

"Are you OK Agent Booth? Doctor Brennan?"

There was a long pause.

What Sweets didn't know about was a conversation of a few months earlier, just hours after he'd helped them whilst they were stuck in that elevator, whilst he was wearing a dead man's woolly jumper. That thought freaked him out a little.

For the partners though, the clarity of that conversation returned to them in the same moment:

A conversation conducted on a wintery night.

A conversation conducted on stadium bench seating.

A conversation conducted in dimmed lighting, with the flicker of a candle and the magic of a spell.

A conversation that had reframed their relationship.

With a date.

A date they had both written.

A date that, despite Brennan not knowing what Booth had written, and Booth, despite his peeking, unable to discern exactly what Brennan had written, was the same day, on the same month, on the same year.

"_Love, happiness... and life... and fate_." Booth had said.

Fate.

Something Booth believed in.

Something Brennan didn't.

Yet, this date had been chosen by them both.

A date that was looming very close on the horizon.

A date that would quite possibly roll around during the course of this undercover case.

They both knew of the ramifications - to their partnership, to their relationship and to everything they knew.

Brennan blinked at Booth's voice uttering that sentence, tumbling through her brain, for the thousandth time in those last few months and cleared her head to return to reality.

"I'm fine."

Booth took her cue. He forced a smile and straightened himself up.

"Me too. Bring it on Sweets, whatcha got for us?"

Sweets was unconvinced but decided to let this pass for the moment. He would have other opportunities to get to the bottom of that small, but he was sure, significant, non-verbal exchange he had just witnessed.

Sweets clapped his hands and smiled.

"So, how do you both feel about Bowling?"

"Bowling?" Brennan raised her eyebrow for a moment, then allowed her super-brain to launch into action. "The British Anthropologist Petrie discovered a primitive form of bowling during the discovery of the grave of an Egyptian boy from around 3200 BC. The Germans also discovered a form of bowling in evidence from 200 BC and the English have documentary proof for the more modern version of the game dating from 1366, when Edward the Third passed a law to ban his troops to play so they would focus on their archery practice. Interestingly, in English legislation, there is a law making all fathers with boys over the age of seven practice their archery for two hours every weekend; this law has never been repealed."

Booth chuckled. Brennan shot him a slight glare.

"What Bones is saying is that she would love to go on an undercover assignment where we have to go bowling whilst solving whatever nefarious crime has been committed. The question is, why haven't I seen any paperwork on this already?"

"Sorry Agent Booth, this one came in from the Montana office a couple of days ago. A set of bones was found behind the back office of a bowling alley in Billings. The body was still wearing clothing often worn by club bowlers. They've already sent the evidence -" Sweets looked at Brennan reassuringly, "- **carefully** back to the Jeffersonian for your team to take a look. The local agents have a list of suspects from the owner of the alley, which I've been asked to profile, in the meantime Hacker's requested you two go out there, blend into the community for a couple of weeks and try and work out who committed this crime, get a motive, all the usual. I'll keep you updated with my profiles and anything else you need."

"But what about the owner of the alley?" asked Booth. "Surely they'd be a prime suspect?"

"New owner for about six months, new in town. The old guy died aged eighty-five, last Fall. Initial indications from the local office suggest that the body is a sizeable male over eighteen, decomposition is at least a year old, and the old guy would have had trouble lugging a body anywhere seeing as he was walking with a zimmer. Even if he'd committed the crime before he died, he'd have had help."

Sweets whizzed his chair from the middle of the room back to his desk in a way that perpetuated the myth of his being twelve; grinning at the enjoyment of the short ride, then whizzed back again with a pile of paperwork.

"Here's all the background for you to read on the plane over. We've rented you an apartment. Oh, and I nearly forgot something really important. Costumes."

"Costumes?" Brennan and Booth exclaimed in unison.

"Hey, you guys love costumes! I read about that case you had in Vegas; and remember that case a couple of years ago? How could we forget Boris and Natasha, or was it Buck and Wanda Moosejaw..." Sweets winked at them and smiled nostalgically. He'd been pleased at the assistance he'd been able to provide and it had also given him opportunity to witness some classic Booth and Brennan unresolved sexual tension.

"Anyway..." Sweets brought himself to the present. "I had the cover team make these up for you especially."

Sweets whizzed his chair back to his desk again and this time, from a drawer, pulled out two shrink-wrapped bowling shirts. He whizzed back to the middle of the room again.

"Go on, open them!" he encouraged.

Brennan methodically pulled her wrapping apart round the edge whilst Booth just tore his open from the centre. Sweets smiled to himself. _Even in something so simple, the brain and the heart; _he noted.

Brennan held her shirt aloft to examine it, just as she would a bone. It was a two-tone blue with red trim. Then she noted the writing, also in red, embroidered just a shade to the left of centre, right in front of where her heart would be. She looked at Booth nervously, who was regarding his almost identical shirt, except his writing was different.

Embroidered on the shirts were the names _**Roxy**_ and _**Tony**_.

This whole situation had suddenly intensified another notch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who posted reviews, favourited (is that a verb?) and alerted. My apologies that I can't reply individually to all of those on the reviews page (total lack of time) but I will always try and respond if you PM me. :)**

**I don't write specifically for reviews but they are always welcomed. :)**

**I chose Billings, Montana as I have a pen-pal of 14 years who lives there and she is a recent Bones convert!  
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**I forgot to mention last chapter - I don't own Bones, except the 205 I own (I lost a molar a few years ago.)**

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><p>The next morning Booth had picked Brennan up from her apartment in a cab and they had travelled to the airport not really saying much other than some general discussion about the case. By the time they'd checked in and boarded the flight they had still not really talked about anything. The one thing they hadn't discussed on that wintry night, several months before, was exactly <em>how<em> they would tell each other when the date each had picked had arrived. What was going through both their brains right now was the same thought:

_What do I do when that date arrives?_

The date which was just days away._  
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Trying to ignore this fact, Booth and Brennan sat on the plane, reading through the paperwork Sweets had given them and discussing their plans for the case. There were several clear suspects. All were regulars at the bowling alley and all knew the victim. Angela, Hodgins and the squinterns were busy deconstructing and reconstructing the body to give them some more clues, but in the meantime they would have to get to know the regulars at the alley.

For Booth and Brennan themselves, the plan was for Tony and Roxy to be taking some time off from work, visiting from out of town so they could get some practice in for the next tournament back home. They'd chosen Montana as it was fairly quiet and away from people they knew, but Billings still had enough to do that they wouldn't get bored during their "time off". This time Tony was a successful building contractor who could afford to take a few weeks off work. Roxy was a supply teacher, so that gave her the flexibility to also take some time off. That would reduce suspicion of the couple being there.

There was also the tiny issue that Brennan hadn't bowled since she'd been about thirteen. Booth had asked her a couple of times over the years but she'd been too busy with her book, or finishing some limbo work, to go. Her maths and physics skills, even as a teen, had made her quite good for her age in calculating the trajectory and angles on the ball to send it trundling down the alley and knocking over skittle after skittle, strike and spare. Brennan was quite keen to re-learn the skill, but being Brennan, had set also herself the goal of beating Booth by the end of the case.

After an uneventful flight, they picked up their hire car and headed for their apartment. Booth and Brennan still stuck to small talk, mainly about the case, but also a little about their journey and looking for the apartment, which was near the centre of town.

They parked outside a terribly hip-looking building with brick, glass and steel enveloping a large atrium in the lobby.

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><p>"Hey Bones!" Booth called out, "This is a nice apartment." they'd been rented a loft apartment, which was actually more of a condo. There was a big open living space with a kitchen area at one end, a dining area in the middle and then a TV and huge corner sofa area at the other, all very tastefully decorated. The carpet on the floor was thick and luxurious. Booth looked pleased at the fifty-inch plasma up on the wall and the cable box near the floor.<p>

Meanwhile Brennan had gone off for a look around the rest of the apartment. The only problem was there wasn't really much more apartment to look around. There was a beautifully designed bathroom with the most ginormous bath and equally large shower. There was also one bedroom. One, singular bedroom. A tastefully decorated bedroom with an Emperor-sized bed and black silk sheets. Brennan was starting to wonder if Angela had had something to do with the choice of apartment. Nothing would have surprised her, not least of which would be Angela and Sweets in some sort of collusion.

That word that she hated floated into her mind again.

Fate.

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><p>"So..."<p>

"So..."

"Bedroom arrangements."

There was a long pause of consideration. Booth scratched his head.

"I can sleep on the couch."

"That really isn't necessary, Booth. We are grown adults. This bed is wider than it is long. I'm sure we can both keep ourselves to ourselves."

If Booth were honest, keeping himself to himself was the exact opposite of what he wanted. Truth be told, he wasn't angry anymore. What he now knew he was ready for was to wake up every morning with his arms around Brennan and kiss her awake. He was ready. Booth knew the day was coming when he could make those feelings known, but not yet. He had no clue when his partner would be at that same moment.

Meanwhile, Brennan's mind had gone from the fairly innocent wondering about Angela's possible involvement in their apartment selection to rather less innocent ideas about the size of that bed and what could be done in it. Things that were not sleeping. Things that she and Booth could do in that bed that were not sleeping. Far from sleeping. She was a strong substance. She was ready. Brennan knew the day was coming when she could make those feelings known, but not yet. She had no clue when her partner would be at that same moment.

That night they ran through their backstory one more time before Brennan decided to take a shower before bedtime. The next day they were to explore the neighbourhood a little and also to go to another of the local alleys to practice their bowling for a few days. They were not expected to be professional standard, but keen amateurs, at least good enough to be entering into open competitions and getting a couple of rounds along.

Booth took off his clothes and switched to a wife beater and tracksuit bottoms. He climbed into bed, switched on the second flatscreen TV and started to watch the basketball highlights. He was just getting into it when he did a double take as Brennan reappeared after her shower in her pajamas and her hair still damp. Leaning on the doorframe, watching him for a moment, as he clocked her she made her way to the edge of the bed. Devoid of makeup, she looked young and fresh and to Booth, looked even more beautiful than usual. Booth smiled at the skeleton pattern on her night clothes and smiled at her as Brennan coyly got into bed, a little self-consciously opened her book and started to read. They exchanged pleasant smiles before Booth relaxed back into his game highlights and Brennan settled more comfortably into reading her book.

Booth would occasionally make a comment at the TV, a gesticulation or just plain exasperation.

"They can't hear you Booth..." Brennan did not even bother looking up.

"That's not the point, Bones..."

They both smiled without making eye contact at each other. The domestic setting and comfortable atmosphere was not lost on either of them…


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't all fall off your chairs, this *is* a new chapter to a story I started in April 2011. It niggled me that I never took it any further, I think I got distracted with certain wonderful events between Booth and Brennan at the end of S6. So it's back, with I guess an AU twist (so no Broadsky element and I have no idea at this point if they'll be a baby in this BB universe). **

**I have no idea how many more chapters it'll take to wrap it up. To keep it in roughly the same rythmn as the first two chapters, each chapter will be 1200-1500 or so words. What I can promise is that I won't take three years to post up Ch4! (Jenmaccun will prod me hard if I'm slacking.)**

**My thanks to the people who have patiently waited for a new chapter (especially a lovely comment from _doge, _thank you_.)_ Off we go again then...**

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><p>In what was possibly the most unsurprising turn of events, Brennan and Booth woke up wrapped in each other's arms the next morning, waking to an alarm clock to enable them a productive day of practice. During the night they'd drawn to each other like opposing poles and it had taken little unconscious attraction to reach dawn with him spooning her and her hands clasped to his, one of her legs flung back, bisecting his. As they stirred, they awkwardly disentangled limbs, gave each other coy smiles and mumbled apologies to each other before Brennan took herself off to the bathroom first.<p>

Both took cold showers, or certainly cool enough to dampen any ardor.

Booth lay back on the bed, contemplating his thoughts from the night before whilst Brennan had her turn. It had been very natural, being together in the apartment like that, especially when they'd been in bed together. He could imagine them together in the domestic scenario so easily, only with kissing and touching and things that he really couldn't dare start to think about, lest he would have an embarrassing reaction. He just wondered if she did the same.

In the bathroom, Brennan was indeed harbouring very similar same fantasies. As she showered (and shivered under the cool water) she wondered what she was going to wear - they wouldn't need their bowling shirts just yet; and for a fleeting moment she wondered what she could wear that would have the greatest effect on Booth, to hurry things along, before she scolded herself for even thinking such a thing. Nonetheless, her subconscious must have been ignoring her as she ended up in a low-cut top and some form-fitting jeans that she'd packed without really thinking about the likely audience.

Having made it through the bedroom/bathroom swap-over, where they tried not to eye each other up too obviously, followed by a breakfast discussion about how they would divide their day, they resolved to start their investigations by going to another bowling alley on the other side of town to get some practice.

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><p>Comfortably dressed and purposefully anonymous, they headed over to alley number two, where the tuesday mid-morning time slot left the alley pleasantly quiet, other than a few pensioners. With a little of the legendary charm, Booth managed to procure them a lane far away from the few other participants. Grabbing several different weighted bowling balls - fourteen pounds for himself but a number to find the right size for Brennan, he returned to the lane station to find her having already filled out the electronic registration and ready to go.<p>

Booth went first, scoring a strike with his first bowl.

"OK Bones, show me what you've got." Booth looked at her expectantly. Brennan grabbed a ball, took aim and skipped to the foul line, where she flung the ball somewhat wildly. Booth's initial appreciation of those tight jeans Brennan was wearing turned to a wince as it bounced down the first few feet of the lane before jumping into the gutter and rolling at speed past the pins and into the darkness of the mechanism. Brennan looked irritated.

"More accuracy, worry less about the power, Bones. Try a slightly heavier ball."

She took a breath and tried again. This time she was a little more successful, the ball at least stayed on the lane before veering right and knocking a couple of pins over before it hit the gutter.

"Better."

"Hmmmmm..." she was unconvinced by his encouragement.

Booth scored another strike with his second frame. He gave the air a little punch, pleased that his muscle memory was good and that he was performing well in front of Brennan. '_No use bigging up my prowess if I bowl like a rookie_' he thought to himself.

His partner took her next bowl, but got her timing wrong and the ball veered to the right again half way down the lane, slotting into the gutter disappointingly. Brennan scowled.

"I don't get it. I understand the theory, obviously the physics, but when I go to bowl something goes wrong."

"Bones, it's your arms. Still getting them all wrong... Lemme show you. Grab a ball." Booth walked over to her and stood on her left side, bringing himself close in behind her. With her back now pressed against his chest, he reached around to her right, guiding his hand down her bowling arm until they too were resting against each other. Gently he gripped her wrist. "You see..." He just breathed in slowly and took in a fragrance that was all Brennan - a light floral perfume, vanilla and damp rose petals. He needed to take another breath to calm himself the hell down and hoped she couldn't feel his heart pounding behind her. "You gotta straighten it at the elbow on the back stroke," and he slid his hand up to her elbow, "...and bend on on front stroke ...like this." He swung her arm to and fro accordingly.

"So it's all about strokes." Brennan glanced back over her shoulder at him with the hint of a smirk on her face.

"Yeah." His eyes had glazed over before he gave himself a metaphorical slap across the face. "No, don't rotate your wrist. Gotta keep the wrist straight until the last second and then it's a little flick as you let go..." and he gripped it just a little harder as he swung her arm gently back and forth. "You got it?" Brennan could feel her skin come out in goosebumps as his breath hit the spot between her ear and her neck.

"I think so." There was a pause as they let themselves wallow in their proximity without the awkwardness of eye contact. Booth realised he was still hovering right behind her, so he stepped back out of her personal space. Brennan took another run up and this time the ball stayed fairly centred on the lane and knocked over seven pins - seven of Booth's pins in fact, as it had been his turn once again, but he wasn't bothered.

"There you go!" Booth said proudly.

"And I'll improve further."

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><p>After a couple of hours of practice they'd had enough for the morning and headed over to a nearby diner for some lunch. Booth made some calls to the local field office and Brennan checked in with her team.<p>

"No cause of death yet, Booth, but Cam says the body looks like several weeks old, probably six to seven. Most of the flesh has been eaten by scavengers. Initial analysis of peri-mortem injuries suggest dragging, so might have been a body dump from somewhere else. They're still analysing the body for any distinguishing features and Angela's doing the facial reconstruction now, we should have an ID by the end of the day and some lab findings to go with the data from from the initial FBI report."

"Thanks Bones. The agents here are gathering information on the staff and regulars from the alley and the history of the place. We probably have most the afternoon before we can do much else - what would you like to do?"

"More bowling..."

"Really?"

"I really need to practice to get my standard up to a reasonable level of competence so as not to cause suspicion as to our real identities. At least I don't have to bowl in heels. Roxy's Vegas shoes were most uncomfortable and affected my ability to balance."

"...Yeah, but they were really sexy." Booth forgot himself for a moment and Brennan looked at him in confusion.

"I suppose they were quite alluring. You noticed them?"

The problem with the relationship limbo they were in right now, not yet together, but not _**not**_ together, reminded Booth of that cat in the box experiment Brennan had explained to him once - _Schro-something... Schrodinger! _That was it! Black box, dead cat, alive cat. All at the same time. He couldn't understand why they couldn't have just used a perspex box, they had had plastics in the 1930s. He distracted himself thinking about it for a moment before remembering that essentially, he just wanted to give her a compliment but wasn't sure if she was ready for the compliment, in what was still a sensitive situation. Roll on that date.

"I mean, they were great shoes.. they would look sexy on any woman..." Brennan gave him another look that said _now_ _distinctly unimpressed_ as Booth tried to dig himself out of the hole that was getting deeper by the second. "...but obviously they would always look greatest on you. Which they did. In Vegas." He had really painted himself into a corner. Brennan was standing with her hands on her hips, staring at him.

"Aaaaanyway..." Booth changed the subject quickly, "bowling..."

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><p><strong>Reviews are really appreciated, thanks :)<strong>


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